


Yield

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Cutting, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Glove Kink, Impact Play, Knifeplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Aranea and Ignis explore trust and different types of play together.





	Yield

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case it's not your thing, be advised: this does include knifeplay, consensual cutting, and blood.

1.

Aranea felt the cool softness of the blindfold press her eyes closed, and she sank back into calm and gratitude. Ignis’ breath stirred her hair as he tied it, and he stood close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body through his starched shirt.  

Without being told, she arranged her naked body into the usual position; on her hands and knees next to the bed. She felt the tiny discomfort of the hardwood floor primarily as expectation - the dark coolness of the room welcomed her.  

She heard the strap of his glove loosen and took a breath before she felt the slap of leather connect with her backside. She jumped then, letting herself react, relax. It didn't _hurt_ , precisely. Much. Yet. The pace and the force of the glove slapping her skin increased just a little, and she sighed.

“Quiet, please.  If you're good, I'll reward you.” Ignis’ calm, matter-of-fact tone would have fit in during a Council meeting. He stood close to her again; she could sense his nearness but not touch him, and it was tantalizing.  

Aranea bit her lips, controlling the sound with effort when the full weight of Ignis’ hand connected with her skin. She could feel the blood rising to the surface, and at the same time, the rush her body made to counteract the sting. Ignis leaned his body into her. She fought against an urge to moan, as his hand connected again, and again. Occasionally, he would pause, fingers spread over her skin in a smoothing touch. His palm was warm, stinging against her. She smelled the faint hint of his cologne, vetiver and spice.

When the strikes stopped, suddenly, she panted, recovering but disappointed at the same time. She felt Ignis move away from her, and her legs quivered. Waiting was difficult, but always worthwhile.

When the flogger hit, she gasped, then clamped her lips. The snapping sound it made seemed even louder in the darkness. Ignis let out a scolding hum, and hit harder. Wetness seeped between her legs, and she tried to catch her breath.

“ _Quiet,_ Aranea.” He punctuated the first word with a sharp crack. She yelped, and she heard him walk around to trace a finger under her chin, assessing her. More difficult, with the inability to make eye contact.

She nodded at him. “I'm okay.” Almost unwittingly, her lips turned toward his fingers, following his hand. He pressed a fingertip into the center of her lower lip, and she met it with the tip of her tongue. With a low sound Ignis removed his hand and pressed his mouth to hers, sliding his own tongue past her lips. She kissed him back sloppily, eagerly, and felt a hand slide down to pinch her nipple.  Aranea muffled a surprised moan.

“Trying so hard to be good for me.” His tone was affectionate, and he gently caressed his hand around her breast. He pinched again, harder, and she writhed, then gasped as a warm, wet tongue replaced smooth fingers.

Just as suddenly, he was gone, and Aranea struggled not to make a whimper of disappointment. She heard him pick up - something - but couldn't discern what it was by the sound. Anticipation tingled on her skin.

He stroked what felt like the cool flat of a knife down her shoulder, and Aranea felt the hairs on her arm rise. She didn't flinch. He murmured low, soft words of praise at her: so controlled, so gorgeous and strong.

She felt him slowly, gently, lay the blunted edge of the knife against her neck. Her lips parted, but she held fast. She was no stranger to blades, and it took her little time to discern that the edge wasn’t sharp. In a moment, she tipped her head back, minutely leaning forward to press her skin into the metal. Begging. She heard Ignis draw a small breath in surprise, then he turned the blade again to draw it down, back to her shoulder.

“I knew you’d like this,” Ignis murmured, “I just didn’t know how much.”

Aranea’s cheeks burned and she swallowed. Smooth lips pressed to her neck where the blade had been, and her inability to see, to anticipate the replacement of cold steel with soft flesh, focused her perception down to a pinprick. She felt every detail of his light touches against her skin, as he pressed lips delicately against her neck and up behind her ear.

“I want you to make me bleed, Ignis.” Aranea's voice was desperate and primal.

He answered with teeth nipping lightly at her ear. “We're not prepared for that tonight, my love.” His voice had thickened, and though it was still controlled Aranea knew her request had affected him.

“Then fuck me.” She was shameless and challenging, if a little breathless.

“That's quite demanding, isn't it? Not at all the tone I expect from you tonight.” His response hummed close to her ear and she quivered, pleasantly.  

Ignis continued. “I'm going to give you what you so rudely requested. But you may not come until I do. Do you understand?”

She opened her mouth to answer, and felt the glove slap at her cheek. She closed her mouth and nodded, and the glove was replaced with smooth fingers caressing her chin.

“Very good.”

 

2.

No blindfold, this time. She’d told him she wanted to see everything. Potions and first aid were at the ready. He watched round eyes follow him as he methodically tied ropes in graceful knots, restraining just her arms. They’d agreed on this as the best, safest course of action. Aranea watched Ignis’ face as he rolled up his sleeves, and his hands as he hefted the weight of the dagger carefully, appreciatively.

“You like this too, don’t you?”

Ignis knew what she meant, and answered her with a small smile. He loved her pleasure; loved pulling sounds from her; loved bringing her the sensations she craved. But that wasn’t what she meant, and he knew it. There were other reasons he liked this. Deeper: the passion of her desire to trust him, to be laid bare for him in this way, to pour their energies together into something entwined and beautiful.  Darker: the visceral pleasure at drawing a sharp blade against smooth, delicate skin; the controlled movements of the edge; the very real life’s blood so close to the surface, so easy to release...

 _Focus_.

With an effort, Ignis snapped his swirling thoughts back to a single line, banishing distraction. He traced the flat of the blade down Aranea’s skin again, but this time she could see it. This time, he made sure she could feel the scrape of the edge making teasing contact with her upper arm. Her breath sped up and she looked up at Ignis again. He stopped and locked eyes with her, and the sheer amount of trust, need, and desire there shot straight through his chest. His gloved hand cupped her chin, and he looked at Aranea for a long moment before continuing. The steel glinted in the light of the lamp, and Aranea’s eyes flicked toward it quickly; though, true to form, she flinched not at all.

He continued to grasp her chin. “Open.” Obediently, her jaw dropped. She tasted cold metal as he touched her lips, and then her tongue. They both enjoyed how precise he could be without cutting her. And he knew she trusted him not to - they’d discussed only small, shallow cuts to the chest and shoulder area. He looked at her with his blade in her mouth and felt a deep tingle at the base of his spine.

He slid the dagger out gently, caressing Aranea’s lips with it. He made a show of cleaning it, slowly and methodically, flashing the metal so she'd see it. She’d know what was coming next, of course, and he wanted her to anticipate it. So lovely, the way her chest rose and fell in front of him.

He traced lightly over her chest - just below her collarbone but above the swell of her breasts. She tensed, but he only scraped the blade lightly. She smiled. Ignis continued to run the blade over her skin in light patterns, swooping but controlled. He watched her muscles tense as she wanted to shiver, but held firm.

She looked up at him, her breath rapid. He stopped and pressed gently, slowly, with the tip of the dagger, pricking the point just slightly into the porcelain skin of her chest and watching it pillow around the silver blade. He studied the tiny spot of blood, and looked up into Aranea’s eyes again. She met his gaze fully, though her lips were parted, and he continued.

With a roll of his wrist he changed his grip and shifted his eyes from Aranea’s face back to her skin. Brow furrowing in concentration, he sliced a thin line just below her collarbone. He was slow enough so she’d feel it but quick enough to make a clean, neat scar. The dagger was, of course, impeccably sharp.

Aranea let out an involuntary gasp, and breaths tore out of her with a ferocity that surprised even Ignis. She struggled visibly against all her trained instincts to fight back, Unused to being at the mercy of a blade without surging back against it, Aranea called on every bit of her warrior’s discipline to calm herself and stay still. Her eyes were wild.  

_Gods, it was beautiful._

Ignis caught his own breath as crimson welled from the line he’d drawn. Aranea could feel it, but only slightly see it from her restrained position. He admired his work and allowed her to savor the sting of it before moving on.

He grazed the tip of the dagger along the massive scar on Aranea’s chest - not from one of their play sessions, but from a murderous battle that had nearly killed her. She celebrated that scar, as did he. A smile curved his mouth again and he pulled back the blade to press his lips to the white, raised slash, and touch his tongue to it lightly.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment until he pulled away, and Ignis waited until she opened them to continue. Another smooth line slashed, this time on the other side of her chest, and Aranea let out a breathy sound that made Ignis swallow, hard. He examined the blade, wiped it, and watched her look at it hungrily.

Another draw of the blade, and then another in quick succession, and Aranea was moaning in front of him, her breaths catching on the way in. The blackness in the center of her eyes threatened to swallow the color. Ignis felt his own breath quicken in response.

Far away, somewhere above or below the moment, some part of Ignis’ mind noted the passage of time.

His voice rasped. “I need to untie you.”

“I'm fine,” she breathed.

“We’re done - this is enough.”

They both smiled at that, as red seeped lazily from the lines on Aranea's skin.

“I don't want to stop.” Aranea’s eyes were brighter, greener than he thought he'd ever seen them.

Ignis indulged himself just a moment more, and kissed Aranea deeply again. She was pliant and trembling, but he saw these things as strength, not weakness, and he admired her in her surrender. Ignis held the dagger up and away from them with one hand while the other wound around Aranea's head. He could see the slightly blurred blade in his peripheral vision for a moment; then Aranea’s tongue moved against his and his eyes closed.

Wordlessly, he laid the dagger on the table and started to undo the knots with still-deft fingers. As he freed her right arm, she moved her wrist in circles and looked at him. He'd been right, he knew. This was one of the few times when maybe she'd admit it.

 

3.

She folded into him in wordless gratitude. Ignis realized his own heart was pounding. He pulled the blanket from behind him and tucked it behind her, tending to her cuts to avoid infection. He'd wanted to use a potion, but she'd talked him into letting her wear them for a few days. Said she wanted to feel the pull of them as they healed. He murmured soft words of praise; loving, nonsensical babbles that made her blink up at him and smile. Aranea's head rolled back a little loosely as she turned to give him space to work.

Ignis finished; the small task seemed to have taken an inordinate amount of energy. The surge of focus and color had faded, leaving him uncharacteristically weary. Aranea reached up to twine her fingers with his as he finished the last little dab, and she kissed them.

Ignis shifted to sit up in the bed behind Aranea, and pulled her to his chest. He offered her water, and she sipped it gratefully.

He stroked her hair, and she ran light, shaky fingers over the arm he'd placed at her waist. Ignis breathed out slowly; a controlled motion meant to intentionally calm his body more than a true expression of contentment.

Aranea came back a little more, and she mumbled, “Beautiful work, my love. You’re so good to me.”

Her words struck and melted some of the tentative ice that had been forming in his chest, and he let out a true sigh, surprised at the depth of emotion contained in the small sound he made. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, by now. He nuzzled down into silver strands, and they drifted.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 of FFXV Rarepair Week 2018 (Blood/Power Couple/"I know you like it.") and Day 2 of Aranea Week (Favorite Relationship).


End file.
